The Bounty Hunter's Heart Page 24

  "Dear, I'm busy thinking. He introduced himself to us as Winn, but I remember when you first came here that you were deeply upset at the hard demand of your stepfather's to be obedient and marry the first man he heard of who was in need of a wife. I had no idea how bad it really was, your parents' hardness. It could have ruined your chances with such a fine man. Look at him. It speaks well of him that he continued to court you. I can't imagine what your stepfather must have said to him privately. Oh, what an insult!"

  "That much is true, but Winn isn't who you think he is."

  "That's the plain truth! Look at him, such a good man, not a clod at all!" Peg lifted the saucepan from the stove and filled the waiting mugs. "Look at him with his little boy. What a sweet little one Jack is. I bet you're already in love. Who wouldn't be?"

  "That much is true." Saydee set the knife aside. "Jack may be staying with me while his father is away with his work. That's all I'm going to say on the subject."

  "Fine." Peg smiled, full of delight. "If you need anyone to look after the boy while you're away at work, you just say the word. I would be happy to take him in and spoil him up good."

  "I noticed you were already fond of him."

  "It just takes one look."

  "True."

  "For the father, too." Peg, so wise, took two of the mugs from the counter and walked over to the table with them, where Nola waited. "You're awfully quiet, daughter of mine. There's a reason for that and a lot you aren't saying. Don't think I can't guess that you've known about this all along."

  "Not all along," Nola said with a secret smile.

  "Same difference." Peg put one mug at one of the empty chairs and kept going, heels tapping and lovely skirts swishing. "You men are doing a fine job with that tree."

  Saydee carried the plate of bread slices to the end of the counter and slipped them alongside the jar of tomato preserves. She eyed her cousin. "You do look amused."

  "Endlessly." Nola pushed out of her chair, abandoned her steaming tea cup on the table and swished over. "I think the local deputies are looking for your stowaway over there. Are you sure that's a good thing?"

  "He's definitely hiding from them, but there's a good reason I'm hiding him and keeping his secret."

  "I trust that you're right." Nola reached out and squeezed her hand, and that touch of affection was steadfast and true.

  Saydee swallowed, uncomfortable with the vulnerable emotion setting around her heart. You're not alone, that touch said to her, that Nola was here to make sure of it. That whatever else happened to her before moving here to Montana Territory, she now had family. She wasn't on her own, not anymore.

  "Look at my ma charm that little boy." Nola shook her head, not surprised at all and stepped back, letting go of Saydee's hand, but the connection and the caring remained. "Give her time, she will ply him with baked goods and hot chocolate, and you will never get him back. You'll have to tell Winn he's lost his boy."

  "Yes." A lump caught in her throat. Tears burned behind her eyes. Nola had no idea what she'd said. Saydee gave a shaky sigh. "Something tells me that Jack would be grateful."

  "True."

  They turned silent gazes, watching as Uncle Stan held the chair by the arm while Winn knelt down to check on the condition of the short wooden legs beneath the wonderfully, perfectly done upholstery to make sure it was still in perfect condition. Pete wandered over to stick his nose in to see what was going on. After his inspection, he gave Winn, kneeling on the floor, a tongue swipe on the cheek. Stan chuckled, Jack laughed and nearly spilled the full cup that Peg had handed him. Pete wagged his tail, mighty proud of himself. Jack set down the cup on coffee table and dashed over to see when Aunt Peg announced it to be a perfectly decent and proper sitting room.

  Saydee's feet felt rooted to the floor, even when she knew she ought to be moving into the kitchen and out of sight of the dining room archway, where she had a view of the chair, a soft tea rose color and so beautiful and comfortable looking, it was hopeful of the life and love to come here. Emotional, her gaze zipped straight to Winn. She savored the sight of him, glad he was safe for now, but how did she keep him that way? She didn't know.

  "That's the nicest chair I've ever seen in a house." Jack stopped with a two-footed thud and tilted back his head to one side, his cowlick sticking straight up. "You can tell it's only for Miss Saydee because it's pink, right Pa?"

  "That's for sure." Winn scooped his son up into his arms and held the boy in his arms so they could smile at one another, as if nothing had gone wrong in their lives. The father-son moment filled the house with cheer, shining greater than any light. Held spellbound, Saydee watched them, unblinking, as Stan asked Peg if she had any more of that hot chocolate to go around, and the fire crackled and popped in the grate. Winn kissed his son's forehead, blowing a funny little raspberry against his cheek to make the boy laugh again and could not hide the infinitely tender love in his dark eyes.

  Tears filled her eyes, and she turned away. But not before she lost her heart. How wrong was that? She couldn't love this man. She shouldn't let it happen.

  But it was too late.

  Nola bumped her elbow. "Want me to get the sandwich makings set out? You have dough you need to get into the oven. That's a lot of loaves!"

  "I wanted to bake ahead."

  "Admit it, the truth is you don't know how much bread that handsome man will eat all by himself, not to mention that cute, growing little boy! You don't need to explain a thing. I can see it clearly." Nola marched around the counter, bustling up to the pantry to grab the pickle jar. "If I were you, I wouldn't tell anybody about that man's real story. Keep him safe, Saydee. He deserves that."

  "Yes." His heart broke watching him swing his son in his arms, swooping him back down to the ground, making everyone laugh. Stan beamed on his way to hunt down his cup of hot chocolate, Peg glittered with premature adoration, so easily did her loving heart fall, and Winn's rumbling chuckle rang in the house, making it all the cozier, making the day bright.

  She blindly slipped the bread loaf pans into the oven, one after another, and her hand shook as she wrote the time on the slate she'd set on the counter. She recognized the knell of the boots drumming closer, the easy-going but confident walk. Her stomach coiled so tight she couldn't breathe. "How did you do with the deputies? I spotted them ride up through the window, Pete barked, but I couldn't get into my coat in time to come out and rescue you. That's because Aunt Peg's arrival stopped me."

  "I appreciate your good intentions, but Peg introduced me as the failure of a man who could not win your heart."

  "You, a failure? I don't believe anyone would accept that story for a minute."

  "I did start to try and straighten it out, but in truth, I'm not sure that it's the best thing."

  "I know." She leaned close and her breath fanned his cheek like a sweet kiss. Desire fired low in his groin, hot and deep. "I'm still leaving tonight, and I see what you're doing here. Thank you. No one's been this nice to me in what feels like a lifetime."

  "Then I'm glad it's me, that means you won't forget me. I will not forget you."

  "I can say the same." He glanced over her shoulder to see the cousin take a knife to the ham and begin to slice sandwich meat. "Not that it's private here, but this might be the only chance I get to say thank you. Those words seem too small for what I feel."

  "That's how I feel about all this, it's too small compared to what I wish I could do, and also for what I feel."

  Wow, he could fall right into her big blue eyes and never come out, just stay, heart-deep. He remembered how she'd felt snug in his arms when he'd held her, and he wanted to do that again with her hair tumbling wildly through his fingers and her lips locked on his. That little bit of loving on her felt as life-changing as touching a star in the sky, truly brilliant, for that singular moment when he'd felt like a man good enough for Saydee. He was wise enough to take the teapot, quilted cover and all, to the table for her. Walking away wasn't the toughest th
ing he'd had to do, or would ever have to do, but it tore at his heart.

  "This spread looks mighty good," Stan's gruff voice gave a smiling compliment as he moseyed up to the table-side of the counter. "It was real nice of you to ask us to stay and eat. Glad to see you've got a jar of pumpkin preserves open. I'm awfully partial to them."

  "My father is one of the few fine individuals I know of who has such a devotion to gourds," Nola teased as she carried the used knife to set beside the wash basin. "Some men prefer corn. Everything is corn this or corn that. More normal men might have a fondness for strawberries, and oh, what a treat canning and jelly season must be for those lucky wives and daughters."

  "We wouldn't know anything about that," Peg quipped as she handed her husband a plate off the nearby stack. "We have to suffer with planting, cultivating, weeding, watering and harvesting every gourd known to man."

  "Not every gourd," Stan grabbed two slices of bread with good humor. "First you have the squashes. I love the summer, the acorn, the butternut and the Hubbard. Then you've got the sweeter pumpkins, the crookneck, regular field and blue warty."

  "We can't live without the blue warty," Peg informed them as she dolloped a spoonful of pumpkin relish onto her slice of ham. "Here let me give you a big dollop,too, or I'll never hear the end of it. The secret to keeping peace in a marriage is to make sure he gets the right amount of relish."

  "I didn't know that," Nola shook her head, apparently used to this display of affectionate, good-natured talk between her parents.

  What a nice thing to see, what a good thing to know really existed in a marriage. He felt Jack's hand sneak into his own and hold on tight, tugging at his heartstrings and drawing him away from the family's conversation. He glanced down at his boy. "What do you think, Jack?"

  "I like them and that hot cocoa is real good." So somber, so sincere that little voice of his, so much worry in his eyes. "But I don't like gourds much."

  "Maybe you can learn." He winked to make the boy grin. He saw Saydee glance over and smile, biting her lush, lower lip to keep from laughing. She wasn't the only one. Peg sent him a nod of approval, as if he'd do, he'd do.

  He filed into line behind Saydee at the counter, feeling his heart beat too fast and blood thicken in his veins. He breathed in her lightness, warmth and lilac scent, doing his best to keep his hands steady when he handed down a plate to his boy and kept one for himself.

  "Avoid the pumpkin relish if you can," Saydee whispered to him. "No one will take offense. That only means there's more for Uncle Stan when he comes back for seconds."

  "That's a good thing to know." He forked a few slices of ham onto one of the slices of bread on his plate and tried not to look at her.

  When Russell reached the end of the spread, he wandered off with Peg at his side to take a seat at the table. Peg's commentary had everyone laughing, and he liked the way she fussed over her husband and then her daughter, then making sure that Saydee had gotten enough to eat.

  "Of course I did, Aunt Peg!" Saydee chuckled. "I dished it up myself!"

  "You need more of those potatoes to put meat on your bones! I swear it, you are simply too thin. You've got to have a bit more to you or you'll never land an engagement ring from an interested suitor. Isn't that right, Winn?"

  Surprised, his laugh came out as a choked gasp. He felt Saydee's embarrassed gaze on him, and he didn't know what to say to that impossible hope, but he never wanted to live without the heat of her kiss on his lips, the feel of her body mashed up against his and never to go through life without knowing what it would be like to love her, to bed her, to make her truly his. But that's all this was, just a dream, and all it could ever be.

  "Well, Jack," Peg began the minute Winn had gotten the boy settled at the table. Her friendly eyes zeroed in on the child, full of curiosity. "What was your official verdict? What did you think of that chair my husband handcrafted for Saydee? Do you think it's big enough? It's extra wide."

  "Sure I do." Jack grabbed hold of his sandwich. Tomato preserves slid off, just a few droplets, onto his plate. "It's a real good one, yep, I do believe so. A lady like Saydee likes pink so it's right for her."

  "I do appreciate and value your esteemed opinion. This is a very good assessment. Hey, Stan." She turned to her husband, full of fun, making this fun for Jack. "You did a very good with it."

  "I thought it was a pretty one, one of my best," Stan explained around a mouthful of butter-fried potatoes. "I'm glad you think so, Jack."

  "It's the most beautiful one," Jack declared.

  Such a look, twined with sorrow and the unyielding determination to be thoughtful of them first, despite the loss ahead, that Winn softened at the sight of his son. This gentle, bright, happy family life right here at this table felt foreign to them both, but it was his son's future. A kind softness, he figured, and very welcome after their rather lonely life together and the hardships that came along. It was bright here. Let Jack enjoy it and be happy.

  Something settled on his arm. Saydee's hand. Her touch didn't startle him but soothed, and when she smiled at him the ice around his heart shattered into a thousand tiny pieces, never to be put right again. Words failed him and he could only smile back, caught between wanting to hold on and needing to let go.

  27

  "Winn, how are those preserves tasting?" Stan called across the table. "Did you give the pumpkin relish a try?"

  "I stuck with the tomato kind." He gave a shrug. "In truth, this is some of the best food I've had in a long time. I'm enjoying Saydee's cooking."

  "Any wise man would." Peg looked at him over her sandwich, her face soft with kindness. "Saydee, be a dear and make sure this man stays for supper. I don't know where he's staying in town, but he ought to have a good sampling of your supper tonight. Make sure and feed him well. After all, he did travel a long way just to come pay you a call."

  "This is more than at a courtship stage, Peg," Stan told her. "This man is serious or he wouldn't have brought his son."

  "Please, the two of you!" Nola's laughter was warm, not scolding at all, but full of mirth. "Poor Saydee is beat red she's blushing so hard, and look at the man. He's gonna be shaking in his boots if you don't stop. A man getting serious is a daunting thing."

  "True," Stan agreed. "Remember when I was getting ready to ask for your hand, Peg?"

  "Do I! Everyone kept telling me you had picked out a ring at the local jewelry store, but I couldn't believe it. Why would you show such poor judgement in proposing to me?"

  "If only I'd known that then but I didn't, poor fellow that I was, and how I've suffered for it all these long, happy years."

  Yep, Saydee is blushing, he thought, unable to take his gaze off her, drawn by the beauty of her life and love of her family.

  He took another bite of his delicious sandwich, trying to distract himself from the desire he felt for her sluicing through him like high quality whiskey. She sat next to him, and when her elbow accidentally brushed his sleeve, desire throbbed in his veins.

  "Leave the dishes for later, Saydee," Peg instructed on her way to the kitchen with her empty plate. Stan stood up, interested in seconds and wandered over to the counter behind Nola and began making another sandwich, heavy on pumpkin relish.

  "Aunt Peg! Don't you dare start washing up in there." Saydee said around her mouthful of potatoes, swallowed and set down her fork. "What are you doing in my kitchen?"

  "Nothing that concerns you."

  "Then let me help you. You're a guest here, and I'm telling you for the thousandth time, you aren't doing my kitchen work."

  "Sit down and finish your meal and keep your fellow happy."

  "My fellow? Aunt Peg!" She blushed harder. "That's not right to assume, poor Winn! But, wait, what are you doing?"

  "Popping some corn. What else do you think you are going to eat while Stan reads. He'll go help himself to your bookshelf and pick something for us to listen to, if that's all right with you?"

  "But this is my kitchen. You'
re not to work in it. Stop that right now!"

  "You are bound and destined to lose, my dear."

  Sure enough, a pan clunked onto the hot stove top and Winn could hear the lard sizzle as it melted. Something drummed, pouring into the cooking vessel and the scent of hot sizzling corn kernels filled the air with a pleasant, fond scent that made him remember when he was working as a deputy and one of his co-worker's wives brought in a big batch of fresh popcorn balls. His mouth watered remembering that rare treat, and tasty in just the most unexpected way. When he glanced back at Saydee, the happy warmth he felt paled compared to how he was when he looked at her now.

  She was like that soft light of a quiet winter's dawn, a hush of color tones and hues and a glow of soft light and hope, all so soft it touched your soul when you breathed it in. What a beauty, he thought, adoring the way the lamplight touched her rosy cheek and caressed its way along the soft curving line of her jaw. His eyes traveled lower and he watched her shapely breasts rise and fall with every breath she took. It was a mystery that she moved through him like sunlight through fog, leaving only the clear, bright day.

  "Aunt Peg, you let me do that!" Saydee went to push her chair out and he hopped to his feet, hand already wrapped around the back of her chair, feeling her heat move through him, fueling the fire of his desire as he felt the gossamer tendrils of her hair brush his chin and tickle his shaven jaw. She swirled away, unaware of what she did to him. He stood, immobile, unable to think or to breathe, staring after her as she swished around the counter, as if taking the glow of the light with her, and bustled over to lend her voice to the merry conversation going on between wife and daughter.

  Across the table from him, Jack took one final bite of the baked beans steaming on his plate and grinned, stuffed full. That satisfied, well-fed look on his button face, eyes bright, drove out all thoughts for himself, his every worry of his life that was likely to end in a hard gun battle attempting to bring in the most dangerous outlaw loose in the West right now, a man hunting him without mercy, without a single care of any man's safety. All that mattered was being sure that his son was safe here, tucked away in this little hamlet in the Montana Territory mountains with this fine, warm laughter-filled family, full of light, life and love.